


A Pirate’s Tavern Song

by shewritesall



Series: Dramione One Shots Collection [18]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, BAMF Hermione Granger, F/M, Pirate Draco Malfoy, Pirates, Taverns, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:22:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29329245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewritesall/pseuds/shewritesall
Summary: Okay, so maybe folklore and men's bullshit prevented her from actually sailing, but Hermione was not so put off as to avoid the harbour front entirely.A Pirate AU.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Series: Dramione One Shots Collection [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1953547
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	A Pirate’s Tavern Song

"I'll go bloody deaf in here before the night's out," Ginny exclaimed, raising her voice to be heard over all the drunken songs and shouts. The sound echoed through the small tavern and if Hermione hadn't been so high on the feeling of it, she would have shut the sailors up ages ago.

"You have weak ears!" Hermione yelled back, leaning over the bar counter to smirk at Ginny. She handed a flagon of beer to a man on her right and told Ginny, "They're no louder than usual."

Ginny gave her a look and adjusted her skirt as a drunk sailor stumbled behind her. He grumbled a song under his breath, swaying dangerously close to Ginny and spilling rum down his front. Ginny ignored him.

"I'll beg to differ," she replied. She kicked her foot back casually and the drunk that had been looming closer and closer fell to the ground with a loud crash. Ginny grinned wickedly at Hermione, but Hermione said nothing. "One of these days Harry'll shut you down because of those touchy drunks."

"Harry'll shut me down when the east wind blows backward," Hermione snorted. She handed Ginny two pints of beer and gestured to a table in the corner. "Finnigan's tab is open and those two want the full menu."

Ginny rolled her eyes and with an inaudible groan, she turned to deliver the beers to the two men.

Hermione returned to her work behind the bar. Rolling back her sleeves, she squatted down behind the counter and grabbed hold of the two handles on either side of a new barrel of rum. She kept a tight hold and leaned back, slowly pulling the barrel out from its hiding spot. Standing back up, she scanned the tavern for Harry and Ron who were getting close to drunk. Another hour and they'd be useless at lifting the rum up to where she could dispense it.

"Drunken bastards," she grumbled, grabbing a wash towel and wiping her hands on it. She made her way around the bar and over to where Harry was gallantly telling the tale of his most recent raid and Ron was nodding along excitedly.

As soon as Harry's eyes landed on Hermione, he stopped in the middle of his story and grinned.

"Mione! I think I have a story great enough for you to make into a book!" he exclaimed. His beer sloshed around in his flagon and Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. Maybe he was already too drunk to help. "We were just passing through Gibraltar on our way to Marakesh—"

"Harry, I got a barrel that needs liftin'," Hermione interrupted, crossing her arms in front of her. "Think you could break away for a half of a minute?"

"Don't think I could lift anything other than my flagon," Harry said cheerfully. He held his flagon of beer over his head and grinned sloppily at her.

"Drunk," she said, narrowing her eyes. Harry looked unapologetic and returned to telling his story with just as much vigor. She'd have to hope that night's barrel of rum lasted then.

Hermione turned around to go back to the bar, but was stopped as five unfamiliar men ducked into the tavern. While unfamiliar faces weren't all that surprising, it was odd to see so many step in all at once and so late into the evening. She scanned their faces, wondering if there were any she recognised, but came up completely blank. None of them had stepped into her tavern before.

As she walked behind the bar counter, the five men made themselves comfortable. A brunet hung his cloak on the peg board and another dropped into an empty seat by the door. Hermione busied herself with pouring new flagons of rum and beer, but she didn't miss the way the blond one gestured to the bar. Just as she turned around to shout for Ginny, the blond man appeared in front of her.

"Three flagons of rum and two pints of beer," he demanded. Hermione did little more than glance at him in acknowledgement as she handed over a tray of rum to Ginny.

"We're running low on the rum and Harry and Ron are about as useful as two pigeons on coke," she informed her, nodding to the two boys. "We're not out, but to any that are already piss faced, we'll be serving beer."

"Aye, aye, captain," Ginny said, saluting her mockingly. Hermione shooed her off and turned to start filling up the order of the blond man.

"I do expect rum," the man said. Hermione snorted and slid three flagons of rum across the counter.

"You aren't drunk yet, so that's what you'll be gettin'," she informed him before turning to finish up the order. "That'll be seven pounds unless you wanna start a tab.

To her surprise, the man pulled out the money right there and picked up all the flagons. He nodded once at her and returned to the table his friends were sitting at. Two of the men had already gotten lost in the crowd, but Hermione could see one of the brunets and a dark skinned man waiting for the blond to return. As the flagons were set on the table, she diverted her attention and focused back on her work.

Not an hour later, the blond man returned to her counter with an order for three flagons of rum. She was still running low and she knew he'd overheard her comment to Ginny, so she didn't bother to mutter too quietly.

"Any more and you'll be lifting the new barrel yourself."

"I'll make that deal," he said. Hermione passed over the rum and he set down the money before disappearing in the crowd.

"Woohoo," Ginny called, sliding into view along the counter. "Do we get Christmas early or is Monsieur Tightpants headed home?"

"Ginny, you're engaged," Hermione said with a laugh. Ginny wriggled her eyebrows and pounded an empty pint on the bar counter.

"Doesn't mean I can't appreciate it," she said. She smirked at Hermione and leaned over the counter to say, "I'm just here to guide you in the right direction. I don't want to be the only married woman running a pirate's tavern."

"Not my priority, Gin," Hermione reminded her. She didn't bother to tell her she didn't even ask for the blond's name. "Pirates come and go. Harry's only stuck around because he's pathetically in love."

"Hey," Ginny said, leveling a dagger at Hermione. "That's my Harry you're talking about."

"Tell me I lie," Hermione dared, knocking the dagger aside with a pint of beer. Ginny frowned and hid the weapon back in her skirts, but did not argue with Hermione. "Good," Hermione said. "Now quit selling rum or I'll have to con some drunk fool into lifting the new barrel for me."

Ginny disappeared with a twirl of her skirts and Hermione only saw her briefly as she came to pick up new orders. As the time dragged on, Hermione had to tip the barrel of rum to get it out and became increasingly irritated with every flagon Ginny sold. She had just tipped the very last of it out when the blond reappeared at the bar counter with a smirk and his dark skinned friend.

"If I lift a barrel of rum, do I still have to pay?" he asked. Hermione grabbed her nearby towel and brushed her hands off, looking at the men in front of her.

"Half price," she bargained.

"Very well," he agreed. As the two men stepped around the bar, Hermione lifted the old barrel off the counter top. She rolled it out of the way and pried off the dispenser then returned to the bar where the man was waiting.

"If you dump it, your heads will be set on the dart board," she warned, gesturing to a rickety board across the tavern that was covered in many different stains.

"Zabini," the blond man said, nodding to the far side of the barrel. The dark skinned one—Zabini, Hermione figured—moved around to the opposite side and squatted down beside the barrel. The blond man did the same and with a nod, they hoisted the barrel of rum up and onto the counter in one swift move.

Hermione stood back as they shoved it further back on the counter and adjusted it so it wouldn't tip precariously. Once they had stepped back, she nodded.

"I suppose that'll do," she said. She shooed them out from around the bar and reached for her dagger. As she cut a new hole in the barrel and stuck in the dispenser, the two men waited patiently with their empty flagons.

"Is this your tavern?" Zabini asked as Hermione passed over their rum.

"What's it to you?" she replied, narrowing her eyes.

"Impressive," Zabini said, glancing around the tavern. Jabbing his thumb at the blond, Zabini told her, "Malfoy here can't hardly command a ship with a dozen sailors and you've got control of at least three crews and a couple of ships."

"Well, sounds like Malfoy could use a lesson on governance," Hermione said, smirking at the blond. "Stick around and maybe you'll learn a thing or two. First thing first: you'll need more rum than your ship can carry."

Zabini laughed and Malfoy rolled his eyes but smiled.

"You ain't all bad, bartender," Zabini grinned. He threw his arm around Malfoy and together they went back to their table, leaving Hermione to hastily catch up on rum orders and tell Ginny that no, the new men were not to be waited on.

* * *

It was a week later when Zabini and Malfoy returned to the bar. Only one of the other men came with them and they took up the same corner table as last time, but it was Ginny who drew her attention to them.

"Monsieur Tightpants and Company is back," she said, her voice light and teasing even with the wall of noise surrounding them. "I must ask, did you ever get their names or do I have the privilege of calling them Monsieur Tightpants and Company still?"

"The blond is called Malfoy and the dark one is Zabini," Hermione said. She dropped two pints of beer on Ginny's tray and smirked when it tipped slightly. "The third I haven't met."

"With those dark curls, it's probably best for your future offspring if it stays that way," Ginny said, eyeing the group of three. Hermione scowled at her. "I can't imagine how unruly their hair would be with two sets of crazy haired parents."

"Get to work," Hermione ordered. Ginny grinned and twirled off through the crowds, shouting at a sailor who nearly fell into her.

Less than two minutes after Ginny had left the bar, Malfoy took her place.

"And he returns!" Hermione cheered, clapping mockingly.

"Figured I might try and snag another half priced rum," Malfoy replied with a smirk. "Have another barrel that needs lifting?"

Hermione eyed the rum and beer barrels she currently had sitting out as she filled the first flagon of rum for him.

"If you stick around until closing, probably," she answered. She set the first flagon in front of him and quickly filled up two more flagons. When she turned around, the money was already sitting on the bar counter. "What do you do that gets you all your money, Malfoy?" she asked, trading him the flagons for the money.

"Ah, but that's a secret," he replied. He winked and walked back through the crowd, letting Hermione return to her work.

When he returned the next night alone, Hermione had his flagon of rum ready before he even reached the counter. Instead of taking a seat where he'd sat the last two times, he slid onto a seat at the bar counter.

"Gotta keep company somehow, right?" he asked when she raised an eyebrow at him curiously.

"Where's your usual?" she replied. He waved a hand carelessly.

"Insisted on going further inland. Someone has to keep the ship company, though," he said. Hermione passed a flagon to Ginny as she passed without pause. Malfoy ducked to avoid Ginny's arm and asked, "What is this place anyway? You got a strange set up here..."

"Granger," Hermione offered when he trailed off. If all she got from him was a last name, that's all he'd get in return. No one else had such a pleasure.

"Granger?" Malfoy repeated, eyeing her skeptically.

"You gimme your name, I'll give you mine," she said, leaning her hands on the counter top. "The world is all about give and take and I don't just offer."

Malfoy smirked and they were interrupted as Harry came marching over with a half empty pint of beer.

"Hermione, you wouldn't happen to—Well, fuck me," Harry said, stopping to stare at Malfoy. They scowled at each other and when Hermione began to worry one of them would draw a dagger, she snapped her fingers between them.

"Me, Harry," she reminded him, forcing him to turn his attention away from Malfoy. "I wouldn't happen to what? As far as I know, Ginny's responsible for fucking you but I got just about anything else."

"When did the tavern open its doors to bastards?" Harry asked instead, leaving his original question in favour of a new one.

"Ever since Ronald walked in," Hermione said. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at Harry. "What's this about, Harry?"

"You shouldn't let Malfoy's kind in here, Hermione," Ron said, jutting his thumb in Malfoy's direction. Hermione raised an eyebrow but Malfoy just took a long sip of his rum. "They're the bastards that cheat you and run you dry. We'd know after they stole our sale right from under our noses."

"Everything's fair game in Barcelona," Malfoy said calmly. He glanced at Hermione then at Ron and Harry. "We agreed to split, but you insisted on a full share and when my crew bested yours, you cried uncle."

"That ain't what happened," Ron growled. His hand went for his sword but before he could draw it, Hermione had her dagger on his wrist.

"Draw your sword and you walk, Weasley," she warned lowly. Around them, several sailors watched curiously but Hermione didn't lift her eyes from Ron's. "You know the rules."

"Hermione, I'm telling you now, he's got a cheatin' crew and ill intentions," Ron said, dragging his hand away from his sword slowly. "You'll want to send him out crying or risk your usual business."

"I've got plenty of business still," Hermione said, gesturing around the bustling tavern with her dagger. "Your problems are your own, but I won't have you fightin' in my tavern."

Ron and Harry glared at Malfoy for several seconds before turning sharply and returning to their usual corner of the tavern. Hermione slipped her dagger back under the counter and returned to filling up flagons. Even before she turned back around to find Ginny, she could feel Malfoy's eyes on her back.

"You got a problem, Malfoy?" she asked, turning with a tray of flagons. He shook his head. "Good. I'd send you walkin' too."

"Ron's buttsore," Ginny said, dropping in right beside Malfoy. "Said something about you letting cheats in and dragging yourself through the mud. Harry looks equally upset."

"Ron tried to draw his sword in my tavern and Harry tried to tell me how to run it," Hermione told her. Ginny whistled lowly and glanced at Malfoy.

"Did you see that show? I would have killed for it," she told him. She handed Hermione her empty tray and carefully slid the full one off the counter.

"I'm afraid I was intended to be on the other end of that sword," Malfoy informed Ginny. Ginny's eyebrows shot up and she glanced at Hermione. She made no motion to confirm or deny his claim.

"Damn, he talks like the King of England too, 'Mione," Ginny said. Malfoy frowned and Hermione gave Ginny a look. "I'm goin', I'm goin'. You be good now."

She left before Hermione could scold her and only Malfoy was around to hear her grumble under her breath. Rather than comment on her foul language, he took a long sip of his rum then let out a breath. Hermione glanced up at him as he slid his flagon across the counter and set down twice as much money as was required for a refill.

"If I'm causing trouble in your tavern, I may as well pay for it," he said. Hermione took the money and filled his flagon, passing it back with a small smile. "Oh, and Hermione," he said, catching her off guard with the use of her first name, "Since this is a world of give and take, you can call me Draco."

* * *

Harry and Ron refused to talk to her whenever Draco and his crew stopped in. It wasn't often, but at least two or three times a month the group of three would take a seat at their usual table and drink a good portion of Hermione's rum without getting drunk off their feet. Their fourth time at the tavern, Draco left his mates to sit at the countertop much to Hermione's surprise.

"If you keep leaving your crew like this, they'll stop recognising your name one of these days," she warned as she handed over a large flagon of rum. "Wasn't it Zabini who said you struggle with keeping control in the first place?"

"Zabini's a bastard who can't navigate," Draco said with a snort. "Yet we manage alright."

"You say you have a crew, but it's only you three who come in," Hermione noted. Draco nodded and watched as she held three full flagons in one hand. "Where's the rest of your mates?"

"They prefer the atmosphere further inland," Draco said, wrinkling his nose in a way she wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't been looking right at him. "It's hard to find willing women out at sea, if you know what I mean."

Hermione knew very well what he meant, but she just nodded and said nothing. As she continued to work, filling flagon after flagon and shouting at Ginny to control the men by the dart board, Draco stayed at the bar top. He didn't talk all the time, but when he did, Hermione found herself getting a little behind on orders and receiving more smirks from Ginny than she appreciated.

Eventually, they seemed to develop a bit more of a routine. As Draco arrived with Zabini and Nott—the third man Hermione met on their fifth visit—Harry and Ron seemed to care less. They never spoke and Ron very pointedly avoided the bar when Draco was seated there, but no one attempted to draw a sword again.

"Care if we join you, Granger?" Zabini asked, falling into the seat to Draco's left late one night. Nott sat on Draco's other side and together they pinned him in while Hermione smiled at the three. "Malfoy insists on leaving us to our lonesome."

"Fuck off," Draco said, elbowing first Zabini and then Nott but there was no malice in it.

"The bar's all yours, boys," Hermione said, catching Ginny's eye across the tavern. "Just keep out of Ginny's way or she'll have your heads."

After one or two times of Nott nearly knocking the tray from Ginny's arm, they rearranged themselves to allow the redhead more space and quicker access to Hermione. Whenever Hermione wasn't talking with them, the three men chatted amongst themselves about whatever they pleased. It was during many such conversations that Hermione learned more about their crew and sailing habits.

"You should have seen 'im, Granger," Nott laughed, reaching around Zabini to shove Draco's shoulder. "Git couldn't tell the starboard from the port."

"You drink half a barrel of mead and let me spin you around before you talk," Draco said, flashing a grin at Hermione as she refilled their flagons.

"Say, where's that redhead who usually elbows Nott?" Zabini asked, looking around the tavern many nights later.

"Night off," Hermione answered. It was Draco who approached the bar top this time with a tray on his arm and Hermione smiled as she handed over a full order of beer. "She got married, didn't you know?"

"To Potter?" Zabini asked, eyes wide as he looked around quicker. "Well, fuck me, mate. Didn't see that one coming."

"They were engaged before we started coming," Draco said, carefully balancing Ginny's tray on his arm. "Start paying attention."

"And you start serving," Hermione said, eyeing his full tray. Draco saluted her with a smirk, nearly dropping the tray, and hurried off to deliver alcohol. Zabini and Nott remained in their claimed seats at the bar while Draco sauntered through the tavern, dropping flagons into the hands of anyone who held out money.

"Say, how'd you get Malfoy to become your personal staff for the night?" Zabini asked, watching him work. "He's hardly useful around his own ship."

"He lost a bet," Hermione answered, deciding not to tell them she'd agreed to spend the day with him if he did so.

"I'm sure he did," Nott said, looking for all the world like he didn't believe her. Before he could question her on it though, a shout rang out from across the tavern as Draco dumped a flagon of beer on some poor bastard's head and Hermione made a hasty dash over to keep the peace.

* * *

Hermione met Draco at the port just minutes after the bell tower chimed nine times. She leaned against a nearby hitching pole, waiting for him to make his appearance and not at all surprised when he rounded the corner seconds after she'd arrived.

"You look nice," he said, eyeing the day dress she'd put on instead of her tavern skirts.

"And you look the same," Hermione replied. He wore dark trousers and an equally dark shirt, but had left his cloak on the ship, the only real difference to his outfit. "Tell me, do you own anything that doesn't scream 'pirate'?"

"I'm afraid not," Draco said. He offered her his arm and without hesitating, she slipped her hand around his elbow. "I don't make a habit of staying in many cities long enough to have my clothing criticized, so it doesn't usually matter."

Hermione hummed.

"Yes, well perhaps you should invest in at least one town shirt," she teased. Draco snorted. "After all, you seem to be sticking around and it would not do well for me to be seen with such dishonest company in a city like Marseille."

Now it was Draco's turn to laugh and as they exited the harbour, they got a few extra glances.

"Hermione, love, you run a tavern," he reminded her, smiling down at her fondly.

"Yes, but I do try not to be seen with pirates where the British soldiers are concerned," she said, patting his arm patronizingly. "And do try to refrain from shouting about my business. It's technically under the name of a Monsieur Harold Granger."

* * *

The daytime outings were becoming much more regular, Hermione realised after the third one. At the beginning of the month when Draco's ship found port in the Marseille harbour, he would always take her out. Not that she didn't get out on her own, it was just much different when she had the tall blond at her side instead of the usual chatty redhead.

Draco had bought—or maybe stole, she wasn't entirely sure—a new shirt and trousers for when they walked around town and she found they received less stares. Each time they spotted a British guard, Draco did conveniently duck into a nearby street or carefully guide her away, but Hermione ignored the action every time. She wasn't unfamiliar with the way many sailors avoided the guards and if Draco was as much of a pirate as she thought, he would do well to keep out of sight.

"Zabini has been a right arse about my disappearance on our first day at port," Draco said one early morning. He'd met her at the tavern instead of the port as Hermione had some extra clean-up to do from the previous night. "He seems to think he's being replaced as my right hand man."

"And is he?" Hermione asked, grunting as she tipped a full water bucket up down the stairs.

"Of course," Draco answered. He gave her a small smile and they shared a look before Draco yelped and water cascaded into his boots from the stairs. "Fucking—Hell."

"Get to work, Malfoy," she said, laughing as he jumped away from the stairs and attempted to empty out his wet boots. He squeezed the water out before putting his boots back on and beginning to scrub the bottom stair while she started at the top.

"Merlin, you'd think the git would at least have the decency to start a fight outside," Draco muttered, scrubbing hard in a particularly bloody spot. "Especially if he planned on cutting off Finnigan's hand like that. Say, do you think they'll try and come back?"

Hermione looked up to see Draco looking at her curiously and shook her head.

"All the boys know not to draw swords in the tavern," she reminded him. Draco nodded. "Finnigan and Smith will both stay well away from now on."

"Mighty shame, that is," Draco muttered, returning to scrubbing at the bloody stains on the stairs. He glanced up at Hermione and with a sly grin, he said, "I think I'd rather like to see you yield that dagger again."

Hermione refrained from answering and instead focused on keeping her smile at bay and scrubbing the stairs. It took them nearly all day to clean the blood that had dried on the stairs and the vomit in the nearby corner, but with two hours until the December sunset, they finished.

They were working on cleaning the remaining flagons behind the bar when the first person walked in.

"Isn't this adorable?" Zabini said, throwing open the tavern doors at exactly sun down. Nott followed close behind, hanging his cloak and hat at the door before joining Zabini at the bar.

"If I didn't know you'd been scrubbing blood and vomit all day, I'd say you got the better deal of the day," Nott said, smirking at Malfoy who was carefully drying each flagon Hermione handed him. "Say, Granger, has this git kissed you yet?"

Draco spluttered and would have shattered the flagon he was holding if Hermione hadn't caught it. He sent Nott a fierce glare, but Nott was not fazed.

"As a matter of fact, Nott, he hasn't," Hermione said coyly. She handed the flagon back to Draco and he stared at her unblinking. Hermione turned back to Nott. "You'd think he'd have done so already, wouldn't you?"

"I can help you out if he won't," Nott said. Draco returned to glaring at Nott but Nott had his attention on Hermione still. "A woman like you deserves all the kisses in this godforsaken land."

"Get out," Draco ordered, pointing to the door and setting down the flagon. Nott ignored him.

"I'd be willing to offer up my lonesome self as a sacrifice, Granger."

Nott was teasing, but Draco didn't like it anyway. He scowled at him and even when Hermione tried to hand him a new flagon to dry, he didn't take it. Nott's grin just widened and Hermione smiled in amusement at him, her eyes flicking between Draco and Nott.

"Come here and let's show him how it's done," Nott said playfully, beckoning her forward. "Pucker up."

Willing to play along, Hermione set down her flagon in the soapy water and started to lean over the bar top. She had hardly moved at all before Draco was turning her by her shoulders and dragging her up to meet his lips instead. On the other side of the bar top, Nott and Zabini howled. Hermione wrapped one soapy arm around Draco's neck, keeping him in place for a couple more seconds before allowing him to pull back with a dopey grin.

"About a year late," Zabini teased, smacking Draco's arm. Draco scowled at him and reached for the nearby hand towel to wipe the back of his neck.

"It's not too late to make you sleep with the fish," Draco warned. Zabini didn't look threatened in the slightest.

"How long would it have taken you to kiss our darling Granger without Nott's incompetence?" Zabini asked. He leaned back on the stool to avoid the way Draco snapped the hand towel out him. Nott didn't bother defending himself.

"Another year," Hermione said, smirking up at Draco as she returned to washing flagons. He gave her a look but she just laughed, lifting a soapy hand up to pat his cheek. "You may be a fearsome pirate, but you did need the extra shove."

"I would have done fine on my own," Draco grumbled, wiping his cheek dry with the hand towel. Before any of them could say otherwise, he leveled them all with equal glares and said, "Anyone who disagrees will find themselves with Crabbe and Goyle below deck tonight."

Hermione laughed and even though both Nott and Zabini protested loudly, no one slept below deck.

* * *

One month, Hermione's boys didn't show. They'd almost been religious about spending the same three to five nights in the harbour and taking up seats at her bar top, so when they didn't return for over a month, she began to worry.

Harry had told her the British were patrolling the sea more viciously and many pirates and sailors alike had had their ships blown to the bottom of the sea, but she refused to believe that had happened to Draco, Zabini, and Nott.

"They're notorious enough we would hear about it anyway," Harry said to reassure her. It helped, but she still kept an ear out for any mention of them in the tavern chatter and so did Ginny.

Just over six weeks since the last time she'd seen any of them, Zabini stumbled into the tavern looking as if he was already drunk. Ginny appeared at his side in an instant, escorting him to the bar top and sharing a concerned look with Hermione before twirling off to continue serving beer. Hermione, however, stepped away from the flagons and alcohol and fixed Zabini with a very concerned look.

"He's okay, Granger," Zabini said, rubbing his head in a way that made Hermione think he wasn't telling the whole truth. "We got into a bit of a mess north of Sicily and the git won't stop raving about having a new scar, but he's safe."

"Sicily? Scar?" Hermione struggled to say. The Sicilian sailors were a force to be reckoned with and she knew their reputation on the sea. "What happened, Zabini?" she asked.

"You have a tavern to run right now, Granger," he reminded her, gesturing around the room. He grimaced and his hand went to his side. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "I was sent to reassure you. When you've closed up for the night, though, I'm sure the crew would appreciate a visit."

"The crew?" Hermione asked skeptically. Zabini smirked.

"Yes," he replied with a faint smile. "The crew is very unhappy to be stuck on the ship right now, but a house calling would likely do the trick."

"Let me call Gin," Hermione said, reading between the lines.

Waving down Ginny didn't take more than a second and Hermione hardly had to say a word for her to agree.

"I'll make Harry run the bar front since he can't keep house for the life of him," she assured her, taking the flagon from Hermione's hands.

She whistled sharply and the tavern chatter died down for just a moment. It was enough to catch Harry's attention though and when Ginny waved him over, he came running. He hardly spared Zabini a second glance aside from looking surprised to not see Draco and Nott with him.

"Hermione needs the night off," Ginny told him, leaving no room for question. "Get behind the bar and keep up with my orders."

"Aye, aye, captain," he said. He pressed his lips to hers then slid behind the bar and looked at Hermione. "You heard her: Get out."

Hermione sent Ginny a thankful look and wiped her hands with the nearby hand towel quickly. As soon as she was around the corner of the bar, Zabini was at her side and the crowded tavern parted like the sea in front of her.

It occured to Hermione as they stepped onto the docks that she had never actually seen Draco's ship. She only knew it existed in the harbour from the stories he told and that it had to be of relatively good size based on the amount of money he always carried with him. What she did not expect, however, was for Zabini to walk her to the very far end of the port and onto the gang plank of the largest ship at the dock.

"We've been here for a few nights," Zabini admitted as they boarded the ship. "We wanted to make sure he was alright before worrying you, though."

"You've had a doctor on board?" Hermione asked. Zabini offered her his hand and she took it, jumping down onto the ship's deck.

"Yeah. Potter recommended two women—sisters, I believe—and they did a better job than any other patch work doctor we've found," Zabini said.

"The Patil Twins?" she asked, glancing at him. He nodded. "Wait, you talked with Harry? How bad is it, Blaise?"

"It wasn't good," Zabini replied, avoiding the question. He lead her through the ship and stopped in front of a closed door. Hermione could see candle light flickering through the stained window pane and a blurred figure sitting across the room. "We all took a hit, but Draco was hit the worst. Maybe he'll tell you more, but if not, you'll probably sleep better."

"I don't need you to lie to me so I can sleep at night," Hermione said sharply.

"I didn't say it for you, Granger," Zabini said quietly. Hermione's face softened, but he opened the door to Draco's quarters before she could apologise.

Nott was seated beside Draco's bed, a journal on his knee and a quill in his hand. Lying down with his eyes closed, Draco looked like he was fast asleep.

"Granger," Nott said with a nod, smiling at her as she walked in. Draco's eyes snapped open and his head turned to face her.

"Merlin, Draco," Hermione gasped, taking in his gaunt face. She hurried over to his bed and carefully sat on the edge, taking one of his hands in both of hers. "What the hell happened?"

Although Draco had always been pale for a sailor, he looked sickly now. There were bruises around his eyes and he had a wrap around his left shoulder. Nott didn't look much better and when Hermione turned to look at Zabini again, she found he was limping on his way to Draco's bookshelf.

"Someone needs to tell me what happened," she said. The longer she was left to think about it, the more she would panic. She hadn't really allowed the worry to creep in until she'd seen Draco and now that she had, she found she couldn't seem to stop the rising worry.

"We crossed paths with a Sicilian crew in northern Italy," Nott explained. He cast a glance at Draco. "They'd heard of us, I suppose, and seemed to think if they attacked us in the port during the night, they'd be able to tell stories about killing the great pirate Malfoy."

"They didn't succeed, of course," Zabini added helpfully. He gestured to Draco and Hermione looked down at him. "Clearly he's still breathing."

"They tried to kill you?" Hermione asked, brushing her fingers over Draco's forehead. He squeezed her hand and Hermione frowned. "Zabini said you've been here for days but only just now sent for me. Why?"

"Couldn't have you worrying," Draco said, his voice scratchy. He cleared his throat and attempted to smile at her. "You have a tavern to run after all and if I hadn't been dead asleep when he left, I wouldn't have let him go."

"I'm glad he did," Hermione said, casting a glance at Zabini. "You're stupid for thinking I'd stay in the tavern." She turned back to look at Nott and Zabini and asked, "Did the Twins look after the rest of the crew too?"

"Yes, most of them have more minor injuries," Nott told her, waving a hand around his head. "Some are inland tonight, but most are sleeping off the bruises."

"Zabini has a limp and you haven't stood up since I walked in," Hermione noticed, nodding at where Nott was staying seated. "Did the Twins check you both?"

"Oh, yes," Draco laughed softly from beside her, grimacing slightly. "Zabini there dislocated his hip and is sporting a bruise so large it could rival the British navy while Nott has half a dozen broken ribs."

"And you?" Hermione asked accusingly, noting how he was in bed while the others were not.

"Yeah, Draco, tell her about you," Zabini said with a smirk. He leaned against the door and crossed his arms, watching Draco in amusement. "What's got you stuck in bed?"

"Doctor's orders," Draco answered smartly. Zabini snorted and Hermione gave Draco a look. He rolled his eyes and gestured to his wrapped shoulder. "Got a nasty slice in my shoulder for one thing and either three or four broken ribs."

"Well, between you and Nott, you have one full set of ribs," Hermione said. Zabini howled in laughter and Nott grimaced after chuckling once.

"You're not funny, Granger," he said, holding his side. "Do you know how painful this is?"

"I imagine it'd be less painful if you hadn't opened yourself up to be hit by Sicilian pirates in the first place," Hermione countered. Nott scowled and Draco squeezed her hand again, drawing her attention back down to him.

"Since Zabini called you on board, you will stay, right?" he asked. Hermione glanced at the door, but knew she wouldn't be leaving anyway.

"That's not very honest of me," she said instead. Draco rolled his eyes.

"You run a tavern, Miss Granger," he said. "Surely you can spend one night on an anchored ship?"

She did. Except one night turned into two and she only left on the third night because Ginny arrived from the tavern to usher her back to work. The fourth night, Draco made his way back into the bar, limping and abstaining from drinking with both Nott and Zabini at his side. If Ginny was annoyed with how slow Hermione turned out drinks that night, she wisely said nothing.

"You could hire another barkeeper," she suggested before they opened the following night. "Then you could have a night off without having to blackmail Harry or Ron. I know someone who would be perfect at the job too."

Hermione promised to consider it and the next evening, she told Ginny to talk to her friend about the idea.

"You'll love Angelina, trust me," she said.

Ginny was, of course, right. Hermione had barely talked with the girl before deciding she was a great choice and offering her the job. By the end of the night, Angelina had full control of the bar and Hermione hardly needed to help.

Exactly a week after Zabini had first taken her to see Draco on his ship, Hermione took another night off and walked through the port herself. She hadn't told them she was coming, but as soon as she stepped onto the ship, she was greeted warmly and let back to Draco's quarters without a second glance.

"—maybe consider a proper courtship first, mate."

Hermione paused outside his door, surprised to hear Zabini's voice coming from the other side.

"He couldn't kiss her without the encouragement, Zabini," Nott chuckled. Hermione smiled at the memory and leaned against the door to see if she could hear them better. "You'll have to ask her to marry you before Draco gets the balls to."

"No one is asking Hermione to marry them except me or I'll feed you to the sharks," Draco threatened.

Hermione inhaled sharply, one hand flying to cover her mouth in surprise as she realised what they were discussing. In her moment of surprise, she missed what was said next. The only thing that seemed to run through her mind was what Draco had just said. She was so lost in her shock that she almost didn't hear Zabini announce he should go check on the rest of the crew.

"—leave you with Nott and your personal problems," he said. A blurry figure appeared in front of the door and Hermione barely had time to stop leaning on the door before it was pulled open.

She tipped forward, but kept from toppling over entirely and looked up at Zabini. He blinked at her, surprised for just a second, then smirked.

"On second thought, I think I'll be taking Nott with me," he said, not looking away from Hermione.

"Why?" Nott asked from out of sight. "Draco is clearly in distress and needs—Me to leave, yes," Nott said, changing his mind as he peered around Blaise and laid eyes on Hermione. "Evening, Granger," he said with a grin.

"Granger?" Draco exclaimed, limping into view. His eyes went wide and Hermione stared at him.

Zabini and Nott shared a look before stepping around Hermione and pushing her into Draco's quarters, closing the door tightly behind them. The room was silent for a second and Hermione rubbed her arm awkwardly.

"You, uh, you didn't happen to hear that, did you?" Draco asked, closing the wide distance between them and taking her hand.

"Would you prefer it if I said no?" she replied. Draco chuckled softly and shook his head.

"No, I suppose not, actually," he admitted with a small smile. "Theo is correct in saying I seem to always need the extra push around you." Hermione smiled. "I understand if you think it's too soon, though."

"It's been well over a year, Draco," she said, squeezing his hand. "I've known many friends who have gotten married in half that time."

"Oh, so you think I'm slow now?" he teased. Hermione laughed and shook her head. "You don't have to agree just for me, Hermione."

"Agree?" Hermione echoed, eyes raising in surprise. "You haven't asked me anything. There's nothing to agree to."

Draco gave her a look but Hermione was not going to let him off that easily. She let go of his hand and took a small step back, motioning for him to begin.

"Hermione, love, don't make this more difficult than it already is," he said, reaching for her hand again. Hermione pulled back and made a show of waiting expectantly. "You are—something else. Fine," he agreed, walking backward to where a small desk was sitting. "But if you interrupt me, I won't start over or continue."

"This is really an awful way to start a proposal," Hermione informed him with a small smirk. Draco scowled at her before turning his back to her just long enough to pluck something out of his desk drawer.

"Miss Hermione Granger," he started, holding one hand behind his back and walking back toward her. "You have been one surprise after another from the moment I first asked you for rum. Not only do you run a tavern in one of the most notorious cities in France, but you keep all those men in check with nothing more than your word."

Hermione opened her mouth to object and remind him that there was a reason she kept a dagger, but Draco gave her a look.

"Don't interrupt me," he said, giving her a look that almost dared her to do it. "I know you carry that dagger and I know you've made quite a show out of those drunks before, but this is my turn to talk. Unless you prefer I end there?"

Hermione scowled, but didn't say anything in case he considered it as interrupting. He grinned and continued.

"You can ask Zabini or Nott if you doubt me, but two years ago, I would have never thought having a wife would make me happier than I was while out at sea," he said. He squeezed her hand tightly then slowly brought his other hand out from behind his back and opened his fist to reveal a shiny gold band. "However, I believe that if I didn't have you with me, I could never enjoy it again."

"Draco," Hermione said softly, looking at the ring he was holding in amazement. It was truly stunning and never in her life would she have expected to receive such an item. An intricate design was carved on the outside and even though it didn't have a gemstone, Hermione thought it was beautiful. "Draco," she said again, looking up to see him smiling softly at her. "Did you steal this?"

His smile dropped and his face scrunched before he gave her a knowing look.

"You are the devil, Miss Granger," he said. He held up the ring in front of her face and with the most serious look he could muster, he said, "No, I did not steal this. It is a family heirloom and would have my father rolling in his grave to hear you suggest I stole it."

Hermione laughed loudly.

"I had to ask," she replied with a grin. She wrapped her arm around his waist, being careful to avoid leaning against his chest where his ribs were still healing. "If you would actually ask me the question, I would be happy to wear it, stolen or not."

Draco rolled his eyes and with the hand that wasn't holding the ring between them, he brushed her hair over her shoulder. He cupped her face gently with his free hand and very softly, he asked, "Hermione, my love, would you marry me?"

"Yes."

Draco didn't wait to slip the ring on her hand before dropping his lips down to hers and kissing her firmly. His fingers twisted in her hair and her arms tightened gently around his waist so she was pulled as close as she dared against him. He kissed her long and hard and when he finally pulled away, Hermione was gasping for air.

"I'm surprised you didn't interrupt me," he murmured, his lips brushing hers. Hermione laughed softly and closed her eyes happily, relishing the feeling of him sliding the ring onto her hand.

"It was rather difficult, I will admit," she said. Draco let out a breathy laugh then pulled back to brush a kiss to her temple.

"I would have started over if you'd asked me to," he whispered. He leaned his head against hers and Hermione smiled to herself.

"I know."

* * *

Zabini and Nott were over the moon when Hermione walked out of Draco's quarters the following morning with the ring on her hand. They hooted loud enough that the crew of a nearby ship tried to see what the excitement was about, but Hermione didn't bother shushing them. Instead, she kissed Draco in front of his crew and walked off the ship as the yelling increased, leaving Draco to deal with his crew.

The news spread quickly it seemed and as Hermione began to prepare the tavern for opening, she got many calls of congratulations. Ginny's, however, were the most enthusiastic.

"I have the perfect flowers from my garden," she said as soon as she walked into the tavern. "You'll have them at the wedding, of course."

"Ginny," Hermione sighed with a smile. Ginny would not hear any objections and it was until the first crew stepped into the tavern that Hermione had to listen to all Ginny had planned.

"Harry, Angelina, and I will take care of the tavern while you're gone," she said, talking as if the decision had already been discussed. As far as Hermione knew, it had been. "Do you know when you want to have the ceremony? Perhaps I should make you ask for the days off in advance."

"This is my tavern, Ginny," Hermione reminded her, passing over a tray of rum and sending her off. "I'll be leaving when I want."

"Leaving?" Zabini asked, dropping onto the stool just opposite of her. "But we've only just arrived."

"Leaving for her wedding, you git," Ginny said, rolling her eyes at Zabini before disappearing into the rapidly growing crowd.

"The wedding? Have you talked about that yet?" Zabini asked, looking first at Hermione then at Draco who sat down beside him. "I wasn't aware the plans were already beginning."

"They're not," Hermione informed him. She handed over their regular order of rum then began filling up new flagons for Ginny.

"Good, because as first mate, I will be officiating the ceremony," Zabini announced. Hermione glanced at him over her shoulder then looked at Draco.

"He's very proud of his position," Draco said with a smile.

"Yes, well as long as your services are free, first mate, that would be lovely," Hermione said. Zabini's smile broadened and Draco smiled into his flagon of rum.

"You're serious? I get to officiate your marriage?" Zabini asked. Hermione spared a glance at Draco who nodded in agreement and she smiled at Zabini. He whooped loudly and pounded his fist on the bar top. "I hope you have plenty of rum, Granger, because I am going to celebrate."

Hermione allowed it and passed Zabini a new flagon every time his emptied. She hadn't seen Zabini ever get drunk off his ass before, but with an endless supply of rum in front of him, it only took until halfway through the night before he was struggling to stand upright.

"Now look what you've gone and done, Granger," Nott said, waving a hand at Zabini who had found the dart board. "We're going to have to tuck him into bed and sing him a nursery rhyme."

"I'm sure he'd appreciate it," Hermione replied, handing two pints of beer to Ginny before she could even request them.

"Maybe we'll let him sleep here," Draco mused, grinning at Hermione over the top of his flagon. "He's a right arse the morning after and this is all your doing."

"I'm afraid I have a very strict policy against drunks remaining in the bar after closing," Hermione said. She winked at Draco then turned back around to fill up more pints and flagons as Ginny dropped onto the stool beside him.

"Who let Zabini get drunk?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at the man in question. "He's beating Harry at darts and you know how Harry gets about that."

"Is he?" Hermione asked, spinning around to find Zabini. Sure enough, he was doing a happy little dance while Harry glared at him. "Draco, darling, if you ever want Zabini to walk in here again, now may be a good time to take him out."

"Is Potter really that much of a bore?" Draco asked. Ginny scowled at him and Hermione gave him a look. "Just a quick question," he said, reaching for Hermione's hand as she passed Ginny the filled cups. "If I don't and he continues beating Potter, do I get to see you use that dagger again?"

"Fuck me, mate," Nott grumbled, rolling his eyes and sharing a look with Ginny.

"If you stick around, you'll see me use my dagger plenty of times," Hermione said, squeezing his hand. She nodded her head at Zabini, though, and said, "I really don't want to force Zabini or Harry out, though, so would you please take care of your first mate?"

Draco smiled and kissed her knuckles before letting go of her hand.

"Alright, Nott," he said, pulling Nott off his seat. "Let's go."

Nott nodded to both Hermione and Ginny before following Draco over to where Zabini was attempting to throw darts. The two girls watched as they each took one of Zabini's arms and hauled him out of the tavern, singing a drunken song to himself. As they passed some of the remaining customers, the song grew louder and soon Hermione was listening to the familiar tale of Charlie Mops being shouted and slurred across the whole tavern.

* * *

They never set a date, Hermione realised. Not that it particularly mattered anyway as the plan was to get married at sea, but Ginny asked often and she always had to say they still hadn't talked about it. What happened instead was really rather sudden.

Draco left for a while after he had healed enough that he could use his arm like normal and didn't inhale sharply when reaching for something. Hermione had argued with him about it for the first time, insisting he stay at least a little longer, but he wouldn't hear of it.

"Those Sicilians are waiting for me, love," he told her, cupping her face. "What kind of pirate would I be if I didn't finish what they started?"

Hermione expected him to be gone longer, but he arrived nine days later with a cut across his forehead and a wide grin. It was hours after opening the tavern and Hermione was certain the port was closed, but he didn't seem to have a care in the world as he marched across the tavern and took up his usual seat at the bar.

"You'll sail with me tomorrow, won't you?" he asked before she had even set down a flagon of rum in front of him.

"Whatever for?" Hermione asked, setting a full flagon of rum in front of him. Draco hardly touched it and instead took her hand.

"You agreed to marry me," he reminded her. He tugged on the small chain around her neck to reveal her ring and held it up in front of her. "I intend to make you fulfill that promise."

Hermione laughed. She hadn't forgotten that, of course, but to hear Draco make such a forward statement amused her.

"You'll have to allow Ginny on your ship," she told him. Draco frowned as he realised that meant Harry and most likely Ron as well. "It's entirely possible to hold a ceremony on land here, Draco. Most of Marseille wouldn't even blink."

"Not possible," Draco told her, releasing her hand so she could quickly fill Ginny's drinks. "Zabini is the only one I'll have officiate it and if that means bringing Ginevra and family, so be it."

"Hey now," Ginny said, scowling at Draco.

"You'll be there tomorrow, right, Ginny?" Hermione asked, stacking Ginny's tray with full flagons of rum.

"I'll have to miss it," Ginny said, giving her an apologetic look that quickly morphed into a sly grin. "Harry doesn't know it yet, but I've found I'm too queasy in the mornings to do much but stay at home. Being on a ship would certainly not be any better."

"Ginny!" Hermione gasped, dragging her eyes down to Ginny's stomach that was cleverly covered with many skirts. "You're—"

"Yes, now hush up," Ginny scolded, hoisting the tray of rum onto her shoulder. She glanced at Draco then told her, "I don't want the word spreading before I can tell him."

"As soon as we get back to shore, I'll come see you," Hermione promised. Ginny laughed and shook her head, giving her a knowing look.

"No, you won't," she said. "You spend a good week here with Tightpants then we'll see about a visit."

She twirled off into the crowd before Hermione could say anything else. When she turned back to the bar, Draco was smirking at her and tapping his fingers on the bar top.

"Tightpants?" he asked.

"Drink your rum," Hermione ordered, pointing to the flagon then turning to open the next barrel. Draco laughed but did as instructed before joining her behind the bar and helping wash used flagons while she poured drinks.

* * *

Nott was the one to meet her outside the tavern just after dawn the next morning. His wrinkled shirt was clean and tucked into his trousers neatly and Hermione smiled at the clear effort he'd made. He offered her his arm with a smile and gathering her gown in one hand, she let him take her to the port.

"You sure pack light for a lady," he said, giving her a teasing grin.

"I wasn't aware I'd need more than a trunk I sent with Draco last night," she replied, recalling how he'd told her to bring enough to stay at sea for a night or two. "Are we taking a grand voyage?"

"No, not at all," Nott said, patting her hand. "Just teasing, love."

They shared a smile as they approached the ship and Nott let her lead the way up the gang plank. A few of the crew members were scattered around the ship, preparing to sail, but Draco was nowhere in sight.

"He's having a fit with Blaise," Nott explained. Hermione snorted. Of course. "I'll take you to his quarters to wait. Some of the crew can get—Well, I don't think Draco would appreciate me leaving you alone."

"I can handle a pirate," Hermione said, her hand drifting to her side where her dagger was strapped to her thigh.

"Probably better than me, yes," Nott agreed, glancing at her. "However, there's no reason to give Draco any more reason to have a fit."

He pushed open the door to Draco's quarters and Hermione laughed at the perfectly made bed. During the few times she'd been on his ship, she'd never seen it short of messy.

"We'll take sail here shortly," Nott told her as she let go of his arm. "Once we're at sea, someone will be by."

"Thank you, Theo," she said. Nott grinned and nodded at her, then ducked out of the room to help prepare the ship.

Hermione took the time to browse the many books and journals Draco had scattered around the room. She pulled a freshly bound book off the shelf and flicked through the pages, surprised to find intricate drawings. Sitting down on the edge of Draco's bed, she took her time to look at all the drawings and gently brush her fingers over the charcoal. As she gazed at the third drawing, she felt the ship lurch and heard Draco's voice shout from the deck. She glanced up at the door, but soon returned her attention to the very detailed drawing of her grinning from behind the tavern bar top.

Many of the drawings were of her, she realised quickly. From the many nights he'd spent at the tavern to the first time she'd been on his ship. There was one of her laughing at him and holding up her hand to show off the ring. Another of her behind the bar top, opening a new barrel of rum. There was even one of her holding her dagger, looking dangerously angry as she shouted at two men on the stairwell. Finnagan and Smith, she guessed.

"You've discovered his secret talent."

Hermione jumped, not having heard the door open, and turned to see Nott standing in the doorway smirking.

"He draws a lot," she said. Nott nodded. "He draws me a lot."

"Of course he does," Nott said as if it made all the sense to him in the world.

"Why?"

"He's always drawn the things he loves most," Nott told her. He stepped into the room and scanned the shelf of journals as he said, "His father's memory failed early in his life and he's always worried the same will happen to him. He drew the crew and places we sailed to for years."

Nott pulled an old, dusty journal off the shelf and opened it to show her the many sketches of shorelines and cities. A bustling tavern she didn't recognise. Nott and Zabini drinking on the ship deck.

"How long has he been drawing me?" she asked, turning back to the first page in the book she was holding. Her face stared back at her, but her hair was covering most of it as an invisible wind blew around her.

"Since we first went to your tavern," Nott said. He put the old journal back and pulled another one down. Flipping to just past the middle, he turned through the pages. "Here," he said, showing her another drawing. The viewpoint was from the corner of her tavern, but she was still the center of the focus. "He bought a whole new journal after this," Nott chuckled, showing her the empty pages after. "He felt like you deserved your own."

Hermione set down the journal she'd grabbed and took the one from Nott to look closer at the drawing. Even though it was clearly an earlier drawing, she could see the familiar detail he always seemed to put in her face.

"You can't tell him I told you that," Nott said as she closed the journal. "He's incredibly private about his drawings and I would be fish food if he found out."

"I won't tell him," she promised. Nott nodded and tucked the journals back in their spots on the shelf.

"Now, I should probably warn you before you leave this room that Draco will probably cry when he sees you," Nott said, taking her hand and tucking it in his elbow once again. Hermione gave him a curious look. "The git may be captain of this ship, but he's a fucking baby and you look gorgeous, Granger. He's going to cry."

"Even with his crew watching?" Hermione asked, looking down at the dress she'd chosen to wear in an attempt to hide her redding cheeks.

"Oh absolutely," Nott promised. He led her out of the room and across the ship, giving her hand a small squeeze when she looked up to see Draco standing at the bow of the ship.

Just like Nott warned her, Draco seemed to be teary eyed even with the banjo playing instead of an organ. Zabini muttered something to him with a grin and while Draco attempted to glare at him, the effect was ruined by him wiping his eyes.

"Told you," Nott whispered, taking her hand from his arm and giving it over to Draco.

"Whatever Nott told you, it's a lie," Draco said, scowling over her shoulder at his friend.

"He said you'd be crying," Hermione said with a smile. Draco's scowl deepened. "Oh, don't give him that."

Draco grumbled and looked away from Nott to take in the sight of Hermione in front of him. Even though she'd braided her hair back, the sea wind blew small wisps around her face that refused to be held down. He couldn't honestly say he recognised the gown she was wearing as he was certain he would remember the simple white lace.

"You look lovely," he told her.

"Thank you," she replied, looking down at her gown again. She'd known it was nicer than her usual gowns, but she hadn't expected it to have such an affect on him.

"You both look wonderful, yes, but we don't want to be here all day," Zabini said, cutting in between them. Draco glared at him and even Hermione sent him a slightly annoyed look, but Zabini didn't look like he cared. "Wonderful!" he exclaimed, clasping his hands together. "I hope you both know I have nothing prepared for this."

"Zabini, you absolute—"

"Hey, now," Zabini interrupted. "Don't start name calling or I won't marry you."

Draco set his lips in a thin line and stared at Zabini, waiting for him to continue.

"Our lovely Miss Granger," Zabini said, turning to look at Hermione first. "You agreed to get married on a pirate's ship off the French coast, so I can only assume the answer to this question, but do you agree to marry our wretched captain?"

Draco sent Zabini a dangerous look, but Hermione spoke before Draco could tell Zabini off.

"Yes," she said, squeezing Draco's hand to draw his attention back. His face softened as his eyes returned to hers and she smiled.

"And do you, oh wretched captain," Zabini raved, making Draco sigh irritatedly. "Agree to marry the lovely Miss Granger?"

"Zabini, I swear I'll throw you to the sea."

"Well, if you don't answer the question, I'll take Granger myself," Zabini threatened. Draco glared fiercely and pulled Hermione closer as Zabini stared back. "Yes or no, wretched captain?"

"Yes," Draco growled out.

Zabini nodded contentedly.

"Perfect," he said. He put one hand on Hermione's shoulder and the other on Draco's before saying, "As first mate, I announce you both married!"

Draco smiled and pulled Hermione's face up to his, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before Zabini shoved them apart.

"Fantastic that I've done that, but why are we still at sea when Granger has a supply of rum on land?" he asked, ignoring Draco's angry glare.

"If I turn this goddamn ship around, every last one of you will spend the next three days out of my sight and off of my ship," Draco snarled, keeping his arm wrapped tightly around Hermione.

Zabini and Nott shared a look before one of them gave the shout to return to land. The crew hastily moved around the ship, but Hermione and Draco stayed put.

"I'm sorry Zabini ruined it," Draco said, cradling her neck with one hand and wrapping the other around her waist.

"It was perfect, Draco," Hermione laughed softly, pressing her lips to his jaw. "If it's all the same to you, I'd much prefer the ship to ourselves. Even if it means your crew drinks my tavern dry."

"Oh, they will," Draco said, glancing over his crew as they ran to and fro. He looked back down at her with a smile, though, and said, "I am looking forward to three long, uninterrupted days alone with my wife."

Hermione hummed and pulled his head down to kiss him more firmly, ignoring the shouts of the crewmates as they prepared to dock less than an hour after leaving the port. After all, Zabini had rather abruptly stolen away their first kiss as pirate and wife and she was not about to let him or the crew keep her from getting another.


End file.
